My smile faded as I looked to the floor.
“Hey,” she nudged me, “I’m just playing around. Not judging. I think it’s great … as long as you’re being careful.”
We had been careful, apart from that kiss on the busy Boston sidewalk an hour before. And Boston was a big city. No one has time to look around. For once, I was grateful for that.
“We are being careful, Marcia. No one sees—”
“I don’t mean just that, Savannah. I mean with your heart. I know he’s said he’s in love with you. And, believe me, if there was anyone on this planet that I would choose to thaw that frozen excuse for a soul of his it would be you, but just … be careful, okay? I don’t want you to get hurt.”
I gave her a quick hug. “Thanks, Marcia.” I slid off her bed and bounced over to mine, picking up my phone.
“You should staple that thing to your forehead. It was ringing off the hook before you came back.”
As I scrolled through the missed calls, my smile faded, and I’m sure my glow dimmed to a panicked pallor. I had nine missed calls—all from Madeline’s office.
“What?” Marcia asked, her eyebrows moving together.
I shook my head in confusion as I dialed Madeline’s number.
“Madeline White.” She answered on the first ring, sounding less than calm.
“Madeline, it’s Sav—”
“Savannah, where the hell are you?” Her clipped, anxious tone set my heart racing.
“I’m … in my dorm … “
“Have you been there all afternoon?”
Swallowing hard, I shook my head as I answered, “No, why?”
“Come to my office. Now.” With that, she hung up. Madeline never used a tone like that.
Marcia never moved her eyes from the scene. “What’s going on?”
I cleared my throat. “That was, uh, Madeline.” Slowly, I stood and dropped my phone into my backpack and slid the straps over my shoulders.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I lied. “She just needs to see me right away. See you later.”
There’s no way …
I whispered that to myself over and over on my short walk to Madeline’s office. There was a way, however, and it was written all over her face as soon as I closed her office door behind me. She was standing cross-armed in front of her desk, leaning against it, not blinking. She didn’t look angry. Worse. She looked disappointed.
“I thought it was just the one kiss.” She cut right to the chase and I had no defenses. No excuses.
“I …”
“Damn it, Savannah, right on the street?” she yelled.
“Who—”
“Janna Wilson. And, probably her entire class since you chose the end of a period to make out with a professor in front of the school. What were you thinking? What was he thinking? Do you know what this could do to his career?” Madeline ran a hand through her hair, and I sat in the chair across from her, resting my forehead on my hands.
“Shit,” I whispered.
Janna Wilson was a sophomore flute player. I guess I should have been thankful she called our instructor, rather than absolutely anyone else. But gratefulness was hard to pick up off the floor, what with my dignity scattered all around it and all.
“It was just a kiss, Madeline, I swear. We’re not sleeping together. At least, not since school started again. We’ve just been working on the Assobio piece.” I said it as if, somehow, this would erase the gross breach in ethics we’d committed. More than once, whether anyone was watching or not.
In the several second silence that followed, my mind raced through all of the best and worst case scenarios. Best case? Only Janna, and now, Madeline knew. Worst case … worst case was that Gregory would find out people saw us. He would completely lose it. Madeline gently placed her hand on my shoulder.
“I didn’t realize ... you slept with him, Savannah?” She shook her head then spoke in a firm, clear voice. “This has to stop. Whatever the hell it is, it has to stop. Find another cellist to help you prepare your recital piece. Do not, under any circumstances, take any classes of his next semester. Cut off contact with him altogether. That’s all you can do at this point to prevent a mess.”
“For him,” I murmured.
“What?” When I looked up, I found Madeline looking confused.
“A mess for him, you mean. There’s never a mess for a student in a situation like this. You just said it. Do I know what this could do to his career? Of course I know. You and Gregory operate in a completely different world than I do. I get it, Madeline. He’s an elite musician. He’s with the Boston Symphony and the New England Conservatory and there can’t be any scandal.” I repeated the emphasis, finding myself increasingly sarcastic with every word.
I stood, watching Madeline’s mouth open and close a few times as she struggled to form a response.
Madeline spoke slowly. “I don’t want you to get hurt. I’ve known Gregory a long time, and—”
“Exactly,” I cut her off. “You’ve known him a long time, and he’s one of your best friends. This isn’t about me getting hurt, Madeline. It’s about making sure your friend doesn’t lose his job over some mistake with a student.”
I knew Madeline cared about me. She’d been in my life for several years, often acting as a mother figure when mine couldn’t be bothered to be around. And really, that’s what I needed right now. I was no kid, and I hadn’t needed a mother in a long time. But, sometimes a little understanding—a little care—makes all the difference in the world. What I needed was for her to understand that this could break my heart.
Instead, she was closing ranks.
In that moment, I’d never felt so isolated. I wasn’t part of their world. No matter how welcoming they tried to be, or how encouraging they’d been, I wasn’t one of them yet. One of the elite. Taking a quick glance around Madeline’s office, I knew I never wanted to be. Not if it made others feel the way I was feeling.
“Savannah …” Madeline’s shoulders sank in apparent defeat as I crossed back toward the door.